


Vulcans do NOT flirt. Right?

by Qleo



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Boys Kissing, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Jim curses, M/M, spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-08 14:06:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4307976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qleo/pseuds/Qleo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It sure seemed to Jim that his second in command was getting, well, flirty but everyone knows that Vulcans don't flirt.  It must be in his head, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Boots

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing...not Star Trek and not the characters. I simply lured them into my windowless panel van for your amusement.... Deviates from canon
> 
> No real plot. No real smut (I'm a little disappointed in myself about that). This is nothing but total silliness that keeps dancing through my brain; hope it make you smile!

“Bones?” Captain James T. Kirk, Jim to his friends, waited for the older man to look up from his lunch.

“Yeah?” Dr. Leonard McCoy shoved a bite of his chicken salad into his mouth before answering.

“Have you noticed anything, well, odd about Spock?”

Bones snorted and Jim held up a restraining hand.

“I mean, have you noticed Spock acting strange for _him_?”

“Can’t say I have, Jim.” McCoy speared another forkful of salad. “Why do you ask?”

“Not sure.” Jim took a large bite from his hamburger. “Lately, he just seems…different. Almost,” he paused realizing how ridiculous it was going to sound, “almost like he’s flirting with me.”

McCoy choked on his salad.

“A flirty Vulcan? Vulcan’s don’t flirt.” He dropped his fork as his laughter bent him over double, narrowly missing face planting in his plate. “Jim, I think it might be time for a psych eval.”

“Yeah,” Jim laughed as well, “I must need to get more sleep.”

As Jim faced Spock over the chessboard in his quarters after dinner that night, Jim had to admit that his First Officer seemed perfectly, well, him. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.

“Checkmate.” Spock spoke softly, raising his eyebrow as Jim swore under his breath.

“Damn, I didn’t see that coming.”

“Obviously, Captain.”

Jim grinned as his first officer sassed him even as he knew that Spock would deny it if he was called on it.

“Spock, we’re off duty. Call me Jim.” The familiar response was out before Jim even realized he’d spoken. “One more game?”

“I don’t believe so, Jim.” Spock began to place the pieces for the next time that they would play. “With the Admiral’s visit tomorrow, I believe it would be prudent to spend some time ensuring that we will pass inspection.”

“Of course.” Jim agreed.

“Permission to speak freely?”

“Always, Mr. Spock.”

“Perhaps it would behoove our cause if you were to allow me to polish your boots for you.”

“My boots, Spock?”

“Affirmative.” Long fingers folded into a steeple on the table. “As you recall, on the last inspection, they were..” he paused as he looked for the correct word only to be interrupted by his Captain.

“Yeah, yeah. I remember.” Jim rolled his eyes. “There was no way I could have anticipated the replicator would malfunction and spray chocolate syrup everywhere.”

“Of course not, Cap…Jim.” Spock agreed. “Still, if you are amenable, I’ll take them with me and return them in the morning.

“Whatever makes you happy, Spock.”  
  
“Vulcan’s do not feel happiness.” He returned primly to Jim’s amusement.

Spock knelt in front of Jim and began removing his boots.

“I can remove those, Spock.”  
  
“No need, Captain.”

Remembering his conversation about flirting Jim chuckled to himself.

“Something amusing, Jim?” The first boot slipped free and Spock began to firmly massage the newly freed foot. Stretching each toe and thumbing into the arches before squeezing the tight calf muscles.

“Nothing, really. I was just remembering a conversation that I had with Bones at lunch.” Jim leaned back and closed his eyes as Spock moved on to the other foot. “Mmm… that feels great but you really don’t have to rub my feet.”

“It is beneficial to restore the blood flow after removing ones shoes.” Spock rose, the boots in one hand. “I shall return them to you in the morning.”

“Thank you, Spock.” Jim stretched his toes and winked at him, “Are you sure you’re not flirting with me?”

“Certainly not, Captain.” One eyebrow shot up under his bangs as he unknowingly echoed McCoy’s earlier statement. “Vulcans do _not_ flirt.”

Jim laughed to himself as Spock exited through their shared bathroom.


	2. A Flower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Jim really IS misinterpreting things....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing...not Star Trek and not the characters. I simply lured them into my windowless panel van for your amusement.... Deviates from canon
> 
> No real plot. No real smut (I'm a little disappointed in myself about that). This is nothing but total silliness that keeps dancing through my brain; hope it make you smile!

“I’m telling you, Bones, there is something going on with Spock.” Jim took a long draw from his coffee. “Last night he polished my boots for me.”

“Uh huh.” McCoy agreed patiently. “I’m sure that had nothing to do with either today’s inspection or the fact that you were the only crew member whose uniform failed the last one.” He continued to eat his pancakes.

“That was _not_ my fault!” Jim hissed under his breath. “The replicator..”

“I know, Jimbo but still,” McCoy gestured to where Spoke stood by the replicator, calmly waiting for his tea, “we all know the Hobgoblin is a perfectionist. Having his CO fail the last inspection probably short circuited his brain.”

“Bones!” Jim hissed again, hoping his voice would escape the Vulcan’s better-than-human hearing. “He rubbed my feet!”

“On _what_?” Jim finally had his attention.

“Not on anything.” Jim rubbed a hand over his eyes. “With his hands. You know, like a massage.”

“Sure he did.” McCoy rolled his eyes.

“The Captain is correct.” Jim jumped as Spock’s voice came from behind him. “I did, in fact, as his boots had been laced quite tightly, I attempted to restore the normal blood flow through metatarsus massage.” Spock sat next to Jim. “Captain, I didn’t realize you were discomfited by my having done so.”

“No, I wasn’t..” Jim started only to be interrupted as McCoy rejoined the conversation.

“You really shouldn’t over tighten your boots, Jim. It's bad for your circulation.”

Jim groaned.

As the conversation continued on around him, Jim became aware of pressure against his leg. Spock was freaking playing footsie with him! At the table. In front of everyone. Well, in front of everyone who was willing to crawl under the table and sort through the tangle of legs, anyway. Vulcan’s don’t flirt, his ass! Jim snorted.

“Somethin’ got your panties in a wad, Darlin’?” McCoy’s amused voice came from across the table.

“Oh, fuck me.”

“Captain?” Spock’s voice was faintly disapproving. “Surely this isn’t the time to be propositioning the doctor?” He laid his hand on the Captain’s thigh out of sight under the table, stroking gently. “The Admiral will arrive any moment.”

With one final glare at the table in general, Jim stood and stalked out of the mess, leaving his dishes on the table, McCoy’s laughter following him out the door.

As the rest of the shift passed, and Mr. Spock was nothing buy impeccably professional, Jim began to think once again that he may have overreacted at breakfast.

“Energize.” Standing stiffly in his dress uniform and perfectly polished boots, Jim watched as the Admiral returned to his ship following the successful inspection, loosening the restrictive collar the minute that the sparkle faded from the transporter pad. “Finally!” He sighed in relief.

“Indeed, Captain.” Spock relaxed into his usual parade rest pose.

“Spock, I am going to go change out of this straight jacket. I’ll meet you on the bridge.”

“Of course, Captain.”

Entering his quarters, Jim called the lights up to seventy-five percent. As he crossed over to his closet, his eyes were drawn to the bed that was tucked back in the small privacy alcove. On his pillow was.... a flower? Definitely a flower. A brilliant pink flower with multi-colored spots. Jim sighed and shook his head. Spock. Filling a drinking glass with water, he placed the glass that now contained the delicate flower on his desk and proceeded to change his uniform before returning to the bridge.

“Mr. Spock.”

“Yes, Captain?”

“A word?” He gestured towards the turbo lift.

Raising an eyebrow, Spock proceeded him to the turbo lift as indicated and waited.

“Did you leave a _flower_ on my pillow?” Jim couldn’t stop a faint blush from climbing his cheeks.

“Yes, Captain.” Spock responded quietly. “I have verified that you are not allergic to it.”

“Oh.” Jim wasn’t sure what to make of that. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure, Sir.” Spock exited the lift and strode back to his station while his Captain tried to figure out what the correct response was. Somehow “thanks” didn’t seem like much of a deterrent to inappropriate behavior.

Jim sighed again.

Much later, unable to sleep, Jim wandered down to sick bay in the hopes of catching McCoy for a drink when he heard voices wafting out into the hall.

“Seriously, Spock. Jim needs to take some shore leave; he is obsessed with the thought that you are flirting with him.”

Jim imagined he could hear the eyebrow raising.

“Indeed, Doctor. Vulcans do not _flirt_.”


	3. Carrying on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is absolutely NOT imagining this. It is totally happening. Isn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing...not Star Trek and not the characters. I simply lured them into my windowless panel van for your amusement.... Deviates from canon
> 
> No real plot. No real smut (I'm a little disappointed in myself about that). This is nothing but total silliness that keeps dancing through my brain; hope it make you smile!

For the next two days, Jim steadfastly avoided talking to his CMO. Some best friend he was! James T. Kirk was the Captain of a fucking star ship, a fairly well known intergalactic playboy - not some blushing virgin! Damn it, he knew when he was being hit on. Except, somehow, no one but him was seeing it. In his mind, he began to compile a record of events that seemed….unusual.

Par for the course, each individual action seemed, well, innocent. Spock brushing their fingers together as he handed of the PADD for Jim to sign the acquisition form, when they played chess in the rec room, even when they passed by one another during a red alert. Jim remembered from his Xenobiology courses at the academy that Vulcans kissed with their fingers. Damn Vulcan was making out with him all over the ship and no one else noticed.

There were other, less obvious, things as well. When they entered a turbo lift, Mr. No One Touch Me Ever had maneuvered himself behind the Captain where he stood close enough that Jim could feel the outline of his body. That could, of course, have been close proximity by virtue of necessity – the lift was crowded – if he hadn’t felt the long fingers of his First Officer’s hand meld over his hip, gently pulling him slightly closer. Naturally, on the hip by the wall where no one else would see it. Sneaky Vulcan. Then there were the now nightly foot rubs, endorsed as “good for him” by the apparently blind CMO who really ought to watch his back the next time he was walking past an airlock, which no longer stopped at the knee. How lacing his boots too tightly could require his thighs to need massaged was beyond Jim. Still, all things considered, it wasn’t that Spock was really doing anything that Jim objected to, it was the fact that no one else could see it and, of course, the sneaky Vulcan who refused admit he was doing anything because, well, Vulcans don’t flirt. Jim rolled his eyes. The hell they don’t! No, Spock wasn’t doing anything that Jim objected to until, well, the carrying started. The first time, even Jim didn't see anything suspicious.

They had beamed down to a previously undiscovered planet, nothing new there. A couple hours in, the science team was studiously cataloging local flora samples. Jim was being chased by what, for all intents and purposes, appeared to be a cross between a lion and a very large fern with lots of very sharp teeth. Sadly, nothing really new there, either. Repressing a sigh, Spock stunned the lern? Fion? Whatever it was, Spock stunned it just as it caught Jim’s leg with one massive leaf/paw and sent him tumbling head over heels, rending the flesh from the knee to the ankle. Tearing his tunic from his body, he hastily wrapped the wound before scooping his Captain up in his arms.

Spock snapped open his communicator. “Mr. Scott, two to beam up immediately.”

“Aye, Mr. Spock.”

As they materialized on the transporter pad, he started swiftly towards the door. “Please let Dr. McCoy know that the Captain has been injured and we are on our way to sickbay.”

“Aye, Sir.”

“Spock, you can put me down now.”

“Negative, Captain.” He continued towards sickbay. “Your leg is bleeding and we don’t know if that creature was poisonous.”

“Fine.” Jim huffed as he was pulled closer to the Vulcan’s chest, inhaling the faint spicy scent of his skin. “You smell good.” The words were out of his mouth before his brain registered he was going to say them. Doh! Spock’s only response was to snuggle him slightly closer. Jim sighed. That had probably been a mistake.

“Dammit, Jim. What did you do this time?” McCoy’s irritated voice preceded him into the treatment room.

“Bones, it wasn’t my fau…” Jim’s head snapped around as he was lowered to the biobed. “Did you just kiss my head?”

Spock stood silently, his eyebrow inching up. “Doctor, it might be wise to check for toxins; the creature may have been poisonous.” Jim noticed he didn’t deny the kiss. “Captain, with your leave, I shall return to the surface?”

“Dismissed.” Jim rolled his eyes as Spock drew his hand away, lightly brushing their fingers together on his way out the door. “Did you see it that time, Bones?”

“Hmm?” McCoy turned back from where he was assembling a series of hyposprays. “See what, Jim?”

“Fuck!” Jim cursed. “He kissed me – twice! Once on the head and once on the hand…”

“Oh, that.” McCoy rolled his eyes. “Sure he did, Darlin’. We’re all waiting to lay one on you. You just lean back and close your eyes.” The first hypo hissed against his neck.

“No! He did!” Jim struggled against the darkness. “And he brought me a flower. It was pink….” Then, darkness.

Waking up in a biobed in sickbay was hardly a new experience for Jim Kirk. Some people might claim it was his home away from home. Waking up in a biobed in sickbay with his First Officer stroking his hair, well, that part was definitely new.

“Spock?” Jim blinked a few times. “Where’s Bones?”

“Captain.” If Jim didn’t know better, he would have thought a small smile briefly crossed the Vulcan’s lips. “I am gratified to see you awake. I will get the doctor.” Jim couldn’t even pretend to be surprised when he rubbed their fingers together on the way. Naturally, there were no witnesses.

Luckily Ralph (apparently the Lern/Fion’s name was Ralph) was not poisonous. Jim was released from sickbay after the wound was repaired and cleared to return to duty following a follow up exam the next morning with the caveat that he “spend the remainder of the day resting and keeping his fool self out of trouble” according to the official doctor’s orders.

“Spock will be down in a minute to take you to your quarters.” McCoy growled. “Stay put until he gets here.”

“Bones,” No, he did not whine, star ship captains do not whine. “I can get to my quarters by myself.”

“Nope.” McCoy waved a hypo menacingly. “You’re still unsteady on your feet. If you don’t want to wait, I can arrange for you to take another nap.”

“No, no.” Jim sat back on the biobed. “I’ll wait!”

“Spock, ‘bout time you got here,” McCoy grunted. “I was about to put him back under.”

“Indeed, Doctor?” Spoke spoke quietly from the door. “I’m not certain that rendering difficult patients unconscious when it is not medically necessary is considered a valid medical practice.”

“Yeah, well, if you want him conscious, get him out of my sick bay; I have real sick people to treat!”

“As you wish, Doctor.” Spock crossed to offer his arm to Jim. “Captain, if you would take my arm?”

“I am not…” he started to argue, accepting the proffered arm and breaking off when he saw McCoy reach for the hypo. “Sure, Mr. Spock, let’s go.” As soon as they had reached the hallway, Jim was startled to find himself again cradled in his First Officer’s arms.   


“Spock, I can walk. Really, I can.”

“No need, Sir.” Spock continued towards the lift. “Your weight is negligible.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Even so, I’d rather the crew didn’t see you carrying me like a child.”

Spock didn’t pause. “Vulcan’s would not carry a child in this fashion.”

“Mr. Spock.” Jim snapped out in his firmest, most captain-y voice. “I order you to put me down.”

“Absolutely, Sir.” Spock continued walking. “As soon as we arrive at your quarters.”

There was really nothing for Jim to do by sigh. He was doing an awful of that.

 

When the door chimed the next morning, Jim was just reaching for his boots.

“Come.” He called out. “Good morning, Mr. Spock.”

“Good morning, Captain.” He knelt in front of Jim and removed the boots from his grip.

“Umm…Spock? What are you doing?”

“I am putting your boots on, Sir.”

Jim rolled that over in his brain for a minute looking for the right response.

“Spock.” He tapped the Vulcan firmly on the shoulder. “I think we need to talk.”

“Of course, Sir.” He swiftly tied the first boot and eased the other gently onto the injured leg. “On what topic would you like to converse?”

“Umm. I’m not sure how to say this but it seems like we are having a lot of, shall we saying, un-vulcan-like touching lately.”

“Indeed, Sir.”

“To humans, a lot of the, ahem, contact we have had would be considered rather, well, flirtatious.”

“Captain,” Spock spoke firmly. “I have already informed you that Vulcan’s do not flirt.”

“I know you have, Mr. Spock.” Jim rolled his eyes. That had gotten them nowhere. “Thanks for the help with the boots; I better get to sick bay so Bones can officially clear me for duty.”

“Understood, Sir.” In a single movement, Jim found himself again resting against the Vulcan’s chest.

“Put me down, Spock.” He struggled only to be clutched more tightly against the strong chest. “I can walk to sick bay.”

“Negative, Sir.” Spock headed towards sickbay as if Jim weighed no more than a child. “Dr. McCoy’s orders said you were to stay off the leg until he inspected it this morning. For you to walk on it would violate the medical instructions; I will assist you to sick bay.”

Jim didn’t even try to stop the string of curse words the flowed across his lips. For his part, Spock simply ignored them; occasionally nuzzling the top of Jim’s head with his chin as he walked.


	4. It wasn't how it seemed...probably.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCoy and Jim finally sit down and hash things out. Somethings mean more to different cultures, right? It was all just an innocent misunderstanding...probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing...not Star Trek and not the characters. I simply lured them into my windowless panel van for your amusement.... Deviates from canon
> 
> No real plot. No real smut (I'm a little disappointed in myself about that). This is nothing but total silliness that keeps dancing through my brain; hope it make you smile!

When the door chimed the next morning, Jim was just reaching for his boots.

“Come.” He called out. “Good morning, Mr. Spock.”

“Good morning, Captain.” He knelt in front of Jim and removed the boots from his grip.

“Umm…Spock? What are you doing?”

“I am putting your boots on, Sir.”

Jim rolled that over in his brain for a minute looking for the right response.

“Spock.” He tapped the Vulcan firmly on the shoulder. “I think we need to talk.”

“Of course, Sir.” He swiftly tied the first boot and eased the other gently onto the injured leg. “On what topic would you like to converse?”

“Umm. I’m not sure how to say this but it seems like we are having a lot of, shall we saying, un-vulcan-like touching lately.”

“Indeed, Sir.”

“To humans, a lot of the, ahem, contact we have had would be considered rather, well, flirtatious.”

“Captain,” Spock spoke firmly. “I have already informed you that Vulcan’s do not flirt.”

“I know you have, Mr. Spock.” Jim rolled his eyes. That had gotten them nowhere. “Thanks for the help with the boots; I better get to sick bay so Bones can officially clear me for duty.”

“Understood, Sir.” In a single movement, Jim found himself again resting against the Vulcan’s chest.

“Put me _down_ , Spock.” He struggled only to be clutched more tightly against the strong chest. “I can walk to sick bay.”

“Negative, Sir.” Spock headed towards sickbay as if Jim weighed no more than a child. “Dr. McCoy suggested that you stay off the leg until he inspected it this morning. For you to walk on it would violate the medical prudence; I will assist you to sick bay.”

Jim didn’t even try to stop the string of curse words the flowed across his lips. For his part, Spock simply ignored them; occasionally nuzzling the top of Jim’s head with his chin as he walked.

“Well, Jim,” McCoy groused, “looks like you’ll get to keep the leg after all.”

“So, I can walk on it again?”

McCoy raised an eyebrow in a familiar gesture. “I never said you couldn’t walk on it. What are you talking about?”

Jim groaned. “You didn’t tell Spock that I was supposed to stay off it until you saw it today?”

“Nope.”

“Fuck. My. Life.”

“Somethin’ wrong, Jim?” McCoy turned to stare at him.

“Fuck if I know.” Jim shrugged. “Spock’s still doing that flirty crap and then denying that he’s flirting with me. He’s been rubbing our fingers together; I’m pretty sure those are Vulcan kisses. Yesterday, he insisted on carrying me to my quarters. This morning he put my boots on for me and carried me down here after implying that you said I shouldn’t walk on it. Then there’s the flower…”

Both of McCoy’s eyebrows hit his forehead.

“Flower?”

“Yeah. A pink one with different colored spots. He left it on my…in my cabin for me.”

“Yeah, okay.” McCoy sank down into the chair next to the biobed. “Let’s work through this.”

Jim huffed. “That’s what I have been trying to do but you didn’t believe me!”

“Okay,” McCoy soothed him. “Let’s start with the touching. “Is it…sexual in nature for a human?”

“Um, no.” Jim admitted.

“So, is there any chance that, given how tactile of a person you are, maybe he is just responding in kind and really doesn’t mean anything by it?”

Jim thought about that for a minute. “Yeah, I guess that would make sense.”

“Okay, good.” McCoy moved on. “We already know that, as your First Officer, he takes your safety very seriously.” Jim nodded in agreement. “Did he do anything inappropriate when he carried you to your quarters or back here this morning?”

“Well, no. Not really.” Jim blushed. “I think he was rubbing his face in my hair.”

“Um, okay.” McCoy shook his head. “You aren’t sure? Could it have been unintentional?”

“Yeah, I guess it could.”

“Okay, knowing Spock, I would guess he was erring on the side of caution about walking on the leg; you know he always feels guilty when you get hurt, right?" Jim nodded. "So that clears up everything but the…flower?” McCoy asked.

“Yeah.” Jim shook his head. “I even asked him if he left it there and he said he did.”

“That is..odd.” McCoy huffed. “What else did he say about it?”

“Just that he had verified that I wasn’t allergic.”

“That was bloody kind of him.” McCoy snarled sarcastically. “With your allergies..” McCoy broke off as an ensign assigned to the science labs, knocked lightly on the door frame. “What?”

“I am sorry to disturb you, Sir but Mr. Spock said that you have the Orlingiuos Frieolius sample that we brought back from the surface the other day? We are ready for it in the lab.”

“I have the what now?”

“I’m sorry, Doctor, I meant the Captain.”

Jim looked over at him. “He told you that I have it?”

“Yes, Sir.” The ensign paused. “It’s a large pink flower with spots? It had to be kept separate from the other samples in the lab until we were ready to process it. Humans are the only species immune to it’s pollen so Mr. Spock said he left it in your quarters?”

“Of course,” Jim nodded. “I must have…forgotten. If you will give me a moment, I will deliver to science lab…”

“Four, please, Sir. Science lab four.”

“Absolutely, Ensign. Return to your work and I’ll brink it right down.”

“Thank you, Sir!”

Jim and Bones exchanged a glance. Then it started as a giggle, then a chuckle, then an outright belly laugh.

“Damn it, Bones!” Jim laughed “It’s a damn science sample. All this over nothing.”

McCoy wiped a tear from his eye. “It’s a good thing we have shore leave tonight – I need a drink after all this.”

“I know,” Jim stood up to go retrieve the flower. “I guess maybe Vulcan’s really don’t flirt!”

McCoy’s laugh followed him out into the hall.

 

Leaning back against the bar, Altair water in hand, Spock glanced around venue that Jim and Doctor McCoy had insisted he accompany them to. Dimly lit with loud, thumping music, it was a crush of gyrating bodies. McCoy was ensconced in a corner booth with what appeared to be several Andorian females. Jim was sitting on the bar stool next to him, back to the bar, surveying the crowd and fidgeting in time with the music as he drained his second bottle of Romulan Ale when a humanoid male, Capellan from the military garb he wore, approached. Even Spock’s hearing was unable to pick up the words as he leaned down and whispered in Jim’s ear.

There was no mistaking his intent, however, when his large arm wrapped behind Jim’s back and pulled him flush against his body. Jim laughed and reached to place his hand on the other man’s chest to push him back only to meet with air as the Capellan, having fallen victim to a Vulcan nerve pinch, collapsed on the floor at his feet. Throwing Jim over his shoulder, Spock snapped into his communicator and they faded into a shimmer as the transporter beam energized.


	5. Again with the carrying...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Jim really is reading too much into things.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing...not Star Trek and not the characters. I simply lured them into my windowless panel van for your amusement.... Deviates from canon
> 
> No real plot. No real smut (I'm a little disappointed in myself about that). This is nothing but total silliness that keeps dancing through my brain; hope it make you smile!

“Umm, Spock?”

“Yes, Jim?”

“You’re, umm, carrying me again.”

“Indeed.”

“Why are you carrying me again?”

No response.

“Where are we going?”

“Your quarters.”

“Maybe you could, ahem, put me down?” Jim paused. “We could walk there together?”

“Carrying you is not causing any decrease in our progress.”

“Of course not.” Jim shook his head, trying to clear it of the effects of the Romulan Ale.

“Did you nerve pinch that guy?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Spock had finally come to a stop outside Jim’s quarters. Keying in the access code, he crossed the room and deposited Jim none too gently on his bed.

“He touched you.”

“Not to put too fine a point on it, Spock, but so did you.” He paused. “In fact, you forcibly removed me from the bar.” He paused. “Some might say against my will.”

“Indeed.” Spock knelt to begin the now familiar ritual of removing his Captain’s boots.

“Why did you nerve pinch a perfectly nice stranger and then forcibly remove me from the bar?”

“He touched you.”

“Right. You said that earlier.”

“You are inebriated. He was going to take liberties with your person.” Spock was starting to sound…agitated. Vulcans don’t get agitated, do they?

“That was definitely the plan.” Jim grumbled under his breath. Spock hissed. Yep, that was definitely an agitated Vulcan.

“Sorry, Spock. I was kidding…mostly.” Jim rubbed his eyes. “So you just brought me back to protect me?”

“Indeed.”

Jim nodded. Great. Now he was being cock blocked by an over protective Vulcan. Bones was going to laugh himself silly over this.

“Spock, we really need to talk about boundaries.”

“Respectfully, Sir, you are inebriated so this may not be the most productive time to do so.”

“Okay.” It was late and Jim was suddenly very tired. “Why don’t I go to bed” alone he groaned to himself “and we’ll talk in the morning?”

“That would be acceptable.”

 

“The morning dawned clear and beautiful..”

“Fuck you, Bones.” Jim didn’t even open his eyes.

“I guess you’re not interested in my magical hangover cure then, hmm?”

“I love you, Sugar.” Jim mumbled, “Now gimme.”

“Say ‘please’.”

“Oh hell…I’ll beg or blow you for it, just gimme already.” The faint growl combined with McCoy’s silence left Jim rolling his eyes behind eyelids that refused to open. “Spock?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Sorry, didn’t know you were here.”

“I have been here meditating since I put you to bed last night.” There was a brief pause. “If you and the doctor are planning on being intimate, I will take my leave.”

“Never gonna happen.” McCoy drawled in an amused voice.

“It was just an…expression, Spock. Bones is terminally straight.” Jim forced his eyes open a crack. “Bones?”

“Hold still.” The pinch of the hypospray made him flinch but Jim had to admit that it was well worth it when his vision began to clear immediately.

“Thanks.”

“Sure thing, Brat.” McCoy still sounded entirely too amused. “I’ll leave you two alone.” The hiss of the door heralded his exit before Jim could focus his thoughts to say anything.

“Captain,” Spock spoke in his usual soft voice. “I believe that a hot shower and sustenance will both assist your body in clearing itself of the remaining toxins that you ingested.”

“Yeah, okay.” Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Jim braced himself as the room dipped slightly. “But then we’re having that talk about boundaries.”

“Certainly.” Spock agreed and busied himself at the replicator as Jim tottered to the head.

Twenty minutes and a hot shower later, Jim had to admit that he did feel better and whatever Spock had prepared for breakfast smelled great. Collapsing at the table, he breathed in appreciatively.

“Mmm…” Jim glanced over the table. Coffee, pancakes, bacon, eggs; the perfect hangover breakfast. “Spock, you’re amazing; thank you.” Jim dug in before noticing that Spock wasn’t eating. “You’re not hungry?”

“No,” Spock seemed focused on staring at the wall over Jim’s left shoulder. “I do not require sustenance at this time.”

“M’kay.” Jim answered around a mouthful of pancakes. Glancing up from his plate to catch Spock staring at his bare chest, he winked out of habit. “See something you like?” He then watched in amazement as the tips of his First Officer’s ears turned a bright olive green and he all but ran from the room, knocking his chair over in the process. “That was weird.”


	6. Nope.  Vulcans do NOT flirt.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim can't deny it any longer - Vulcans do NOT flirt....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing...not Star Trek and not the characters. I simply lured them into my windowless panel van for your amusement.... Deviates from canon
> 
> No real plot. No real smut (I'm a little disappointed in myself about that). This is nothing but total silliness that keeps dancing through my brain; hope it make you smile!

 

For the remainder of the day, Spock was as elusive as a ghost. With them both off duty for the day, Jim searched unsuccessfully in all the usual places finally resorting to asking the computer for his First Officer’s location not that it helped much. The computer identified him as in science laboratory four but he was gone when Jim arrived. Ditto for the dry goods storage and the transporter room. Exhausted from chasing Spock around the ship, Jim finally gave up and headed to sickbay to commiserate with Bones.

“I think Spock’s hiding from me.” He said in greeting and he collapsed gracelessly into the chair in McCoy’s office.

“And I give a fuck because?”

“Bones,” Jim whined. “I need to figure out what’s up with him. He fucking cock blocked me last night!”

McCoy laughed out loud. “Yeah; that was funny as hell but I think he did you a favor,” McCoy plopped a glass of amber liquid down in front of him. “That clown wasn’t worth the condom.”

Jim stared down at his drink. “That bad?”

“He made Mitchell look like relationship material.”

“Oh.” Jim sighed. “I guess Spock was right; I was too drunk.”

“Well, Jimmy,” McCoy patted his shoulder. “I think we can all agree that the Hobgoblin definitely has your welfare in mind.”

“Yeah.” Jim pushed his still full glass back to McCoy. “I was kind of bitchy about it. I better find him.”

“Okay, Kid.” McCoy clapped him on the back.

Returning to his quarters, Jim was surprised to find a message waiting.

 

        _To: Captain Kirk, J. T._

_From: Commander Spock_

_Regarding: Requested Discussion Regarding Boundaries_

_Captain,_

_I apologize for abruptly exiting your quarters this morning. I am aware that you had intended for us_  
_to engage in a conversation. Please advise if you would be amenable to having said discussion over_  
_dinner in the observation lounge at 20:00._

_Spock_

 

“Abruptly?” Jim repeatedly out loud with a laugh as he typed out a quick response. That was putting it mildly!

 

           _To: Commander Spock_

_From: Captain Kirk, J. T._

_Regarding: It’s a date._

_Spock,_

_Don’t worry about this morning. See you at 20:00._

_JTK_

 

Stepping into the observation lounge, the first thing that Jim noticed was that the lights were lower than standard. And there was light music playing. Jim stopped short, wondering if he was in the right place.

“Come in, Jim.” Spock stepped out of the shadows.

“Spock, hi.” Jim shot him an easy smile. “You were a hard being to locate today.”

“My apologies,” Spock gestured him over to where a table had been set up in front of the viewing screen complete with a snow white table cloth and the pink polka dot flower - Orlingiuos Frieolius Jim remembered it was called –sitting in the table between two flickering candles. “I had some preparations to make for our dinner tonight.”

“I see.” Jim glanced around at what, to a human anyway, was a very romantic setting. “This is …nice.” He glanced down at his jeans and t-shirt. “I feel a little under dressed.”

“Illogical.” Spock removed the cover from the plate in front of Jim. “Unless what you are wearing is insufficient to maintain your body temperature.”

“No,” Jim laughed. “I mean the setting is beautiful and you look great,” he gestured at nothing in particular. “I didn’t realize that I should dress up.” He glanced down at the plate in front of him. “Is that what I think it is?”

“In Terran vocabulary, I believe the title is ‘bacon cheeseburger’.” Spock removed the cover from his own plate to reveal…not a bacon cheeseburger.

“It smells terrific!” Jim felt his mouth starting to water. “I’ve never seen a replicator get this close to one before.”

“I did not replicate it,” Spock said softly. “My Mother was kind enough to acquire the ingredients and send them to me along with a recipe. I hope it is acceptable.”

Jim knew he was staring at him but he couldn’t help himself. “You cooked me a real cheeseburger?”

“Yes.”

“But you’re a vegetarian.”

“I cooked it, Jim,” Spock raised an eyebrow. “I am not intending to consume it.”

Jim laughed. “Gotcha.” He took a large bite and chewed with relish. “This is amazing; thank you.”

When Spock nodded, Jim could have sworn he saw a very tiny smile briefly touch his lips.

The conversation during dinner was easy; largely consisting of ship’s business and day to day activities. When the meal was completed, Spock rose and gestured Jim towards the couch.

“Perhaps we should start the discussion you requested on boundaries.”

“About that,” Jim leaned back on the couch, staring out the view screen as the stars flew by. “I think we can skip it.” He scrubbed his hand across his eyes. “Bones told me that you kept me from making a bad decision last night. In fact, I think I owe you an apology. I was a real dick about it and you were right. I’d had too much to drink and I was definitely about to fuck up.” He placed his hand on Spock’s sleeve. “I’m sorry.”

“I see.” Spock’s voice, as usual, had no inflection but his eyes were trained on the hand that Jim placed on him.

“Oh, sorry.” Jim pulled his hand back. “I know, you don’t like being touched.”

“Actually, Jim,” Spock reached over and picked Jim’s hand up in his own; stroking their fingers together. “Your touch is always welcome.”

Jim swallowed.

“Remember how I keep asking if you’re flirting with me?” Jim asked, his voice catching. “You really put out some mixed signals.”

Spock let out a most un-vulcan-like sigh.

“Jim, am I correct in the understanding that the definition of flirting is behaving as though attracted to or trying to attract someone but for amusement rather than with serious intentions?”

“Well, yes.” Jim looked confused. “That is the definition.”

“Then please be assured that I am not ‘flirting’ with you.” Leaning forward, he placed a gentle, almost chaste kiss on Jim’s lips. “I can assure you that my intentions are most serious.” Taking in the stunned look on Jim’s face, Spock quirked his eyebrow upwards. “As I have stated previously, Vulcans do not flirt, Jim. We do, however, court our mates.”

“You’ve been…courting me?” Jim’s eyes widened. “The foot massages and the flower? Playing footsie in the mess?” Jim cringed slightly. “Carrying me?”

“I have,” Spock seemed slightly concerned. “For some time. I thought you were aware.”

Jim laughed. “Nope. I was clueless, as usual.”

“Does that mean you do not share my regard?” Spock’s voice was softer than usual. “I may have misunderstood what I thought to be your acceptance.”

“No, not at all.” Jim’s brilliant smile washed over him. “I had no idea what you were doing but I’ve been in love with you almost since the beginning of the mission.” He clasped Spock’s hand between his and squeezed gently. “So what do we do now?”

In a flash, Jim found himself on his back on the couch under a strong Vulcan body that was much heavier than he expected. Spock was claiming his mouth with insistent, biting kisses; one hard thigh pressed between his legs as their bodies aligned perfectly.

“Boundaries,” Spock growled between kisses.

“Not. Now. Spock.” Jim ground out between his teeth as he tried to buck up against him.

“Yes, now.” Spock continued to frot against him as he spoke. “There will be no one else touching you.” He moaned softly as Jim pulled two of his fingers into his mouth and sucked. “You are mine.”

“M’kay.” Jim answered around the fingers in his mouth. “Yours. Now will you please fu..” he trailed off as someone strode into the lounge. Shit! Of all the times to forget to lock the door.

“Well, well, Jimmy.” McCoy raised an eyebrow in a perfect imitation of Spock. “Maybe Spock has been flirting with you.”

Glancing up at the flushed face above him, Jim grinned.

“Don’t be silly, Bones. Vulcans do not flirt.”

C’est finis!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...it was definitely a quick and dirty little fic. I may go through and actually edit (and correct my half-a$$ed punctuation) but not tonight! I hope you enjoyed my little story!


End file.
